Forever Young
by YoungBoho
Summary: No pain, no memories, and best of all no Roger. I'll be forever young in the memories of those few who knew me. Thoughts & experiences from life on the street. Response to Challenge 15


**Disclaimer**: It's not mine. Thank you Jonathan Larson.

**Summary**: Hello disease, and welcome. Free me from the torment that binds me to life, I long to fall into the warm comforting abyss of death. No pain, no memories, and best of all no Roger. Thoughts & experiences from life on the street.

**Rated for language and references to sexual exploits**

**Forever Young**

_Mimi's running out of time, Roger's running out the door_

He's gone.

I have nothing, and no one.

Goodbye love. Goodbye life. Goodbye Roger.

He's gone…

So I left.

Forget Bohemia, forget rehab, forget _him_. Forget life. I don't care anymore.

And yet, I battle with tears, forcing them to remain hidden, shielding my bloodshot, stoned eyes from the newly gray world.

Gray is all I see now. It's all I feel; it's all I am.

I'm alone.

He left me.

The fucker left me here to die a cold, forgotten death.

_Coward_.

You'll never find your song, you won't find anything. Not out there; your life is here… _was_ here, with me.

You were my whole life Roger Davis. I existed for you. Every morning I woke up for you, I ate for you, I danced for you, I took AZT for _you. _

After all, what good is my life without you in it?

Before you I was nothing.

I was a crack whore stripper fucking strange men every night for a little bit of white powder. I was nothing. Rehab means nothing unless you're here to celebrate with me.

Fuck it. There's no point in going anymore.

You're not coming back.

Memories are what sustain me now. Memories of the last year, of you, Angel, us, they're what keep me going. They are the last small bit of comfort I have left.

They grow dull, and gray, and move farther away with every passing moment.

God… losing Angel was bad enough, why did I have to lose you too? How am I supposed to get through this without the two most important parts of my life? Damn it Roger, how can you be so selfish, so cruel, as to leave me now when I have never needed you more?

_I fucking hate you_ for doing this to me.

- - - - -

The tears burn like acid as they slowly spill onto my sunken, gray cheeks and drip past my frozen lips. The loss sears my skin with every faltering heartbeat. It won't be long. A few days, maybe a week or even two if I'm lucky.

I don't want to be lucky.

The air is so cold it scorches my flesh. With every gust of wind I feel little pieces of me fly away.

I pray for a tornado.

Hours, or maybe days, pass; it's hard to tell, time doesn't exist anymore.

The sickness sets in.

Withdrawal.

Fuck it hurts.

I can't tell if my body is shaking from the cold or from the pain. It feels like a brushfire racing through my blood burning me from the inside. My brain is trembling inside my skull. I itch, I burn. Nausea sweeps over me like a heavy wool blanket. I gag constantly, but there's nothing in my depleted stomach to vomit.

It's too much. I long for the sweet release of death.

What I find is the next best thing.

My savior was standing over my huddled form on the street, temporarily blocking the killing winds. I look into his crisp, sober eyes waiting to give me relief.

He's here, he came back.

"Roger," I force myself to whisper.

He doesn't let me finish. I feel myself being lifted up and somehow find myself walking, until my legs betray me and I collapse against the frozen brick wall of a dark ally. Roger slips my arm out of my coat and rolls up my sleeve. My eyes watch him take a needle out of his pocket filled with the friendly liquid.

I don't even feel it pierce the skin.

All I can feel is the sweet blessed relief of detachment carry me away. There is no more pain, no more cold, and no more memories. It's all gone.

My living death.

When I turn to look at Roger in my newfound state of clarity, I'm surprised to find another man clad in black leather: _The _Man. Roger had never been here with me.

He was still running.

I fuck The Man, hard. Right there in the ally.

A faraway pain slices inside my body when he throws me against the wall and rams himself inside me. I welcome the intrusion. Fuck you Roger Davis.

- - - -

Snow begins to fall and I'm still high. I don't know what day it is or even what month. It could be a week later, or even a month. Christmas decorations cover the streets, but I don't see the welcoming bright lights. Everything is gray, colors have long since disappeared.

The man has disappeared too, faded away like so many of my friends, like Angel. I still have my sweet relief though; a parting gift from an old friend.

I'm weak. Death is soon, perhaps even tonight.

A few more hours and I'll be free.

I welcome it, freedom from the torment that binds me to life, I long to fall into the warm comforting abyss of eternity. No pain, no memories, and best of all no Roger. I'll be forever young in the memories of those that knew me.

Slowly the grayness grows dark. My world is growing black. Images of broken memories play one last time in front of my closing eyes; and I feel myself floating away. "Roger…" I whisper, as death takes me.

- - - -

When I open my eyes again they immediately connect with a pair of familiar green orbs hovering inches from mine.

Eyes, they're _your_ eyes Roger.

Strong warm hands envelope my cold withered limbs. For the first time since I can remember, I feel safe, and loved. You came back.

_Thank you_.

I struggle to hold on. I can't go, not yet.

But I'm weak, and I'm tired of fighting. Letting go is so easy. The blackness fills my sight once again.

_No!_

I can't go now, it's too soon.

_I should tell you, I have always loved you. You can see it in my eyes_

He loves me.

I let go.

_Fin_

**In case anyone was wondering, The Man died from AIDS and gave mimi his drugs… kind of lame I know**

**Reviews are Love!!**


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